Cold Frame Results

Last April I concocted a pretty sad looking cold frame just to see if it would work. It actually produced a bunch of tomato plants! Which is surprising because the design left a lot to be desired. There was way too much air circulation and things would dry out and I wasn't very good at remembering to water it. On top of that, the weeds also grew like, well weeds, and I wanted to wait before pulling anything so I didn't inadvertently pull tomato plants. So I'm figuring I had a lot more success than I had any right to. I am definitely going to do this again. In fact, I'm hoping to recruit teenage son, P, a pretty decent carpenter, to build me four nice, working, practical, cold frames this summer.

The tomatoes seemed to grow in clumps. At first, I thought I'd just leave them there to grow. Then I figured there wasn't enough room really, I had about 15 - 20 plants so I decided to transplant a few. It was difficult to separate the clumpy tomatoes' intertwining roots so I'm going to have to figure out if I will be able to remedy that. I'm thinking no, if I'm throwing the tomato waste in there in the fall, I don't see how I can avoid clumping. I smoothed and evened out everything as much as possible but I guess tomatoes like to grow together. Once I separated them, I planted them in the new garden I made. They are doing quite well there.

Busy Ceilidh

This morning I found Ceilidh putting the finishing touches on her nest. She's been building it for the last couple of days and I'm pretty sure she'll be having her kits shortly as in within the hour. What is cluing me in that the baby bunny arrival is imminent is how she is gathering the hay for the nest. After gathering the hay in her mouth she'll reach down and pull some fur. Usually when Ceilidh starts mixing the fur in with the hay, she's ready to kindle. She sort of weaves the hay and fur together and that is what I'll find covering the kits. Right underneath the kits it is all pure white fur and under that is nice, comfy hay bedding. She has a system and it really works well, she rarely looses a kit.

Sure enough, as I puttered around, feeding and watering everyone else, I peeked over and found Ceilidh in the nest box cleaning a little squirmy pink mound that passes as a newborn in the rabbit world. Once she is all finished, I'll go investigate and see how many she had and if there are any stillborns, I'll remove them.

That's Chamomile sitting on top of the nest box. From the start, Chamomile, or Camy for short, supervised the whole operation from atop the nest box. She started watching a couple of days ago when Ceilidh started mucking around in the nest box. She seems very interested but she doesn't get in the way. Camy is a young doe I'm growing out to be part of my colony. I hope she is picking up tips and helpful hints from Ceilidh. I'm thinking young does in a colony will be more successful with first litters than single does in a cage sometimes are. I think it helps them to observe an experienced doe get ready for babies. Just another reason why I really like the indoor colony idea.

Little Bagel-Face

One of my Partridge Chantecler chicks ended up with a beak that doesn't line up right. Looks weird and because the beak isn't aligned, he has a cross-eyed look as well. Don named him "Twistee Creme" after a childhood soft ice cream treat he liked. I call him Bagel Face when no-one's around. Sometimes I'll notice the beak is almost perfectly aligned then there are times when it looks like the picture above.

This ailment, as far as I have learned, is commonly called 'cross beak'. The jury is still out on whether it's a genetic thing or a hatch deformity. The usual 'treatment' is to kill the bird. Kind of harsh if you ask me. The theory is they can't eat and will starve to death. So I watch little Bagel Face very carefully and right now he is eating fine and is growing just as well as the other chicks. What's more, he's happy and bright, he gets along with all the chicks and no-one picks on him. He's one of the first ones to greet me in the morning. He's inquisitive and curious. I just can't look at him for too long because I'll burst out laughing. He's a sweet little bird, all things considered. Most importantly, his quality of life is the same as all the other chicks. He's not suffering and he's not unhappy. So unless that changes, I don't see any reason to do him in right now.

Making a Lasagna Garden

We decided this year to connect the main garden to the annex. We're calling it 'the appendage'! The extra garden area is going to be handy for a few reasons. I would really like to start growing a little grain, oats and barley namely, for the rabbits. Growing shoots in sunny winter windows that the rabbits really enjoyed made me think that it might be a good idea to grow some in the summer and dry it for winter feeding. Another reason for expanding is that part of the main garden needs to go fallow for at least a year, it doesn't produce well and it hasn't been built up with compost as much as the rest of the garden because I tend to run out of compost by the time I get to that part. I thought I would build it up as much as I could with bunny balls and compost and let it ferment over the winter. If I'm going to be losing part of the main garden, it'd be nice to have an extra area to make up for it. Don, of course, loves when any kind of extension is done, be it making the chicken area bigger or extending the garden. Anything that means less mowing is fine in Don's books. I don't blame him, even with a riding mower, an acre of lawn is quite a bit to mow.

The simplest way that I know of to connect the two is to make a lasagna garden. There's lots and lots of different ways to put together a lasagna garden. I have learnt there are few hard and fast rules. Everyone has their own method and ideas. I have never made the same lasagna garden twice, every one is made with whatever I have on hand. This one was put together with less layers than usual so we'll see how it does.

The first layer is newspaper that I roll up and put in a bin. Then I fill the bin with water. Apparently there is something in newspaper that kills the grass. I have found rolling up the newspaper makes it a lot easier to manage when it's wet, just take the edge and let it roll out and lay it down on the grass. The thickness of the newspaper is usually anywhere between three to six layers. I usually just use what ever the thickness of the paper is, no adding or taking away, just open up the paper, roll it and get on with my life. I don't sweat the petty stuff (and I don't pet the sweaty stuff). Newspaper seems to be the preferred medium but cardboard can also be used. I knew a couple that ran out of cardboard and newspaper but they had some old plywood hanging around. They drilled holes in that and laid it down. Seems to have worked fine. The first hard and fast rule is the first layer must be something that will prohibit the grass growing up through the lasagna garden as long as it's not plastic.

So I've laid out my newspaper and now I put on my second layer. The second layer is usually the stuff that will take the longest to break down so I used the 'mucking outs' (new homesteading word :)) of the chicken coop and the brooder. It's wood shavings and chicken dropping. This layer is generally the smelliest as well. I made the layer about 4 inches thick because that all the wood shavings I had. The thickness of my layers is directly dependant on how much I have. You'll notice that the shape is rather odd looking. That's because I didn't soak enough newspaper and ran out. By the time I soaked more paper, the ground and the paper laid out would be drying out would be a no-no. That's the second and last hard and fast rule, everything should be wet. So I decided that I'd do what I could for the time being. I knew I wouldn't complete the whole garden in one day anyhow. It's very rare I have 4 - 5 hours uninterrupted to do anything, except sleep and sometimes even that isn't a given. I'd get back to laying newspaper the next time I worked on it.

The next day, I soaked everything, laid down the rest of the newspaper and chicken shavings (that just sounds weird, like chickens know how to use razors and they need to) and put on the third layer. It's a mix of rabbit manure and dead leaves from last year. I mixed them together because I didn't have enough of the rabbit manure ( dang those worms, they eat it all). This layer is about 5 - 6 inches. It will break down fast and it doesn't need to be as composted as the higher layers.

With the next layer, it's beginning to look like a real garden. This layer is semi-composted compost. It's been sitting around since last December and only started breaking down with this spring's warmth. Even so, it's pretty decomposed but I will find the occasional eggshell, apple core or corn cob that is well aged but not quite disintegrated. No matter, it'll finish 'aging' here. Generally speaking, I like this layer to be the thickest as I consider it the one that will do most of the support care of the garden for that crucial first year. It's always as thick as I can get it. After each layer, I'll water it down. The wetter everything is the better. While the garden is moisturizing, I'll start hauling in the next layer by wheelbarrow. There's a lot of back and forth when making a lasagna garden from scratch with your own stuff from your own place. That is because the materials needed are scattered all over the place. A little in the coop, a bit in the compost heap, a smidgen by the trees... I suppose it wouldn't hurt to be organized but where's the fun in that? You'll notice there's a green patch that really shouldn't be there. I've left it because that's where the unexpected sunflowers started growing. I can always lasagna-patch that next spring.

The fifth and final layer! This layer is well aged compost mixed with worm castings and a little good earth. I like this layer to be as thick as possible, too. It's about 4 inches deep, a little on the thin side, but it should be OK because I will be planting in mounds and not digging down to make rows. I don't plant root veggies the first year in a lasagna garden. I like everything to break down before things start growing in it. So now the garden is good to go.

Usually my lasagna gardens have a layer of fresh cut grass but I didn't have any. I usually recruit one of the kids to follow their dad around as he mows the grass collecting the cuttings but they are up to their eyeballs in the end of term exams. When Don was cutting the grass, I was busy mucking out the chicken coop so no grass was collected. I thinks that's why I like this method of garden making the best, it's basically made up as I go. There is lots of room to improvise and usually everything works out fine.

Um, yes that is a tire in the foreground. It's a little experiment I'm doing. More on that once I know for sure if it worked or not.

More Room For The Chickens

Don has made the chicken pen larger again. He started planning to do this a while back and had stopped mowing the lawn in the area he was going to expand. The grass is nice and long and the chickens are having a grand time in there.

It was kind of funny, when we first opened up the area, the chickens came over and stood at the border of the old area. They kept looking at the new area but nobody was inclined to wander in. Chickens aren't generally the 'leap before you look' type. They like to look and discuss and think about it and discuss it a little more and then, hey, let's think about it some more. Mandelas was the first adventurer in and she just loved it. By the end of the day, most of the chickens had decided that it was worth checking out. They seem to like the old tree at the end of the pen.

The new area easily doubles the area the chickens have. The more space they have, the happier they'll be. They very rarely wander alone, most have a couple they like to pal around with.

Fifty Seven Pounds

I finally got around to harvesting my worm castings. I emptied both bins and combined them into the bigger bin with fresh bedding which was dead leaves that had been soaked in water then drained. I have an awful amount of worms and when they are all in the bottom rolled up in a ball as I removed the castings, it's pretty gross. Especially when I have to pick 'em up. Ew. I think I will go back to my original way of harvesting which was to gently dump the whole bin on a plastic sheet outside in the sun. When I got down to just the worms, I just slid them off the plastic into the nice cleaned bin. No touching involved. Pretty sweet. While a huge ball of worms is icky, the castings are pretty amazing. It really does look like earth, rich and dark with a, well, earthy sweet smell. It really shows that every creature, no matter how 'primitive' or insignificant, does have an important part to play in nature. Worms keep the ground healthy and plants flourish because of it.

I filled up two feed bags about half way. I didn't want them too heavy. Just for fun, I weighed the bags. One was just over 25 pounds and the other topped 32 pounds. Fifty Seven pounds of worm castings. That's a lot, considering it is usually used in a 1 to 10 ratio. Like I have 570 pounds of earth/compost to mix the castings into. No worries, I will find a use for it all. If nothing more, I will use in the fall when I put the garden to bed.

Good-Bye Sunfire, It's Been a Privilege

I buried Sunfire this week in the cold, the grey and the mist. She was the last of my original four rabbits. Sunfire was a Palomino, bought almost as an afterthought, just to add a little 'hybrid vigor' to the trio of Creme D'Argents I had purchased. When breeding the same breed of rabbits, there's a tendency to inbreed and line breed a lot which means after a while, the litters are smaller. Introducing a new breed usually results in big, robust and healthy litters. This is what what you want if you are breeding for meat.

Sunfire was unique and pushed the line between livestock and pet until it was no longer thick and black but a grey, smudgy blur. She was a big rabbit, around 15 pounds and glowing orange. She looked like an overgrown pumpkin. From the start, she let everyone know she was no ordinary being. She'd greet me with grunts in the morning and loved her head rubs. She didn't socialize much with the other rabbits preferring the human touch. When I cleaned her cage, I'd let her out and she'd follow me around, grunting and sniffing. I had to be really careful when she was out. Unlike the other rabbits who would go off to explore corners or visit other rabbits, Sunfire followed behind me like a puppy and inadvertently kicking her was always a danger.

Sunfire and I learned together the whole process of having bunnies. Her first litter was a disaster. She had 9 bunnies all in nest box but 5 were born dead. I found all 5 in the front of the box, cleaned and covered with fresh straw. She tried her best to care for them even if it was in vain and my heart went out to her. She raised the remaining 4 beautifully. She seemed to really enjoy the whole mom thing. Her second litter was a whopping 11 kits. She, herself, became very ill afterwards and I nursed her with herbals and homeopathy. She did recover and went on to have more litters, staying healthy and raising healthy kits. With her last litter, she became stiff in the hindquarters and I knew soon her breeding days would be over. I decided to breed her one last time and then let her live out the rest of her life in the colony setting with her daughter Solstice, the one rabbit Sunfire really did enjoy being with. She never had a litter and I figured that was enough for her. I was happy to keep my little grunter around. In January she became ill and nothing I did helped her very much. So I put her down. I have Solstice, Sunfire's daughter and Flare, Sunfire's granddaughter so there's a little Sunfire in the rabbitry.

I couldn't bear to process or just put her out in the compost. So I froze her, whole, in the freezer I have exclusively to keep the dog food in. And when the ground warmed up, I buried her next to the raspberries. Raspberry canes and leaves were her favorite. Good-bye dear bunny, you shall be missed.